<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>help us to hear you by phillipAsoo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512968">help us to hear you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillipAsoo/pseuds/phillipAsoo'>phillipAsoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Louie Duck Needs a Hug, Louie Duck-centric, Mental Health Issues, emotional!!!!!!, im sorry hue isnt really in this one :(, kinda a vent fic, one (1) swear word</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillipAsoo/pseuds/phillipAsoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Louie Duck lived inside his head. Some days he thought he was stuck there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dewey Duck &amp; Huey Duck &amp; Louie Duck, Dewey Duck &amp; Louie Duck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>230</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>help us to hear you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a couple of you asked for maybe a depressed louie fic and then my gal ella commented that louie might try to hide it from the family? and so here we are uwu (thank you for the suggestions by the way!!!! MUCH love)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Louie Duck lived inside his head. Some days he thought he was stuck there.</p><p>He was an introspective kid. He was sensitive. People said those things a lot.</p><p>He was also very much depressed, but no one said anything about that.</p><p>Louie was introspective and sensitive and he was also not stupid. He had a phone and, most days, an internet connection, so it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. He had depression. It was one single, devastating fact.</p><p>Louie was introspective and sensitive and clever and depressed and a <i>very</i> good liar. Sure, Dewey was the actor of the family, but Louie could put on an act of his own. Or at least a smile. And it worked, because absolutely no one in the entire household had any idea the baby of the family hated everything about himself and, on some days, could barely get out of bed.</p><p>Sometimes Louie resented this. He wanted to kick and scream and shout that he was unhappy, that nothing had meaning anymore, that <i>he just wanted to feel okay again</i>. But then he checked himself and remembered that this was on him; he hadn’t said anything to anyone. And for a decent reason.</p><p>He thought so, at least. His family all had their own problems and priorities -- adding <i>take care of the depressed third child</i> to their list was unnecessary and would only serve to make Louie feel like even more of a burden than he already was.</p><p>...He was also very embarrassed. Was that normal?</p><p>He didn’t sleep much anymore. Most nights he cried silently into his pillow. Sometimes, though, he couldn’t stay quiet and had to slip out of his and his brothers’ bedroom to find an empty one to sit and cry in. (Thinking about this fact made him sick to his stomach. <i>He was so pathetic</i>.)</p><p>He ached to tell someone, <i>anyone</i>, how he was feeling, but what good would it do? Genuinely?</p><p>His brothers and uncles loved him very much. He knew this. He knew that if he told them, they would be supportive. His stupid “reason” for not saying anything was just that; stupid! He <i>wanted</i> to tell someone! <i>Why couldn’t he tell someone</i>?</p><p>Another night spent in a dark, empty bedroom.</p><p>Louie was crying. Sobbing. His whole body was shaking and none of this was new and he couldn’t think rationally anymore and everything was wrong and <i>he wanted a hug</i>. <i>He wanted a </i>fucking<i> hug</i>.</p><p>He needed to stop. He needed to breathe and quiet down because he was being so loud, so so loud, and he was going to wake someone up.</p><p>But he <i>wanted</i> to be loud! He wanted someone to hear him! <i>He was stuck in his head and he wanted someone to LISTEN!</i></p><p><i>Listen</i>. <i>Please</i> listen.</p><p>He needed someone to listen.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dewey woke up in the middle of the night because something was definitely off. </p><p>Or maybe he needed to pee. Sometimes that was it. </p><p>Either way, it was time for a trip down the hall. </p><p>He crawled down the ladder, favoring jumping off halfway down over the third and very creaky step. He landed softly on the ground and mentally high-fived himself for that landing (he literally did this every night, but mental high-fives were never in short supply).</p><p>Dewey paused when his eyes landed on Louie’s duvet, which was pulled back to reveal a very empty mattress. </p><p>...Okay. Two Ducks forgot to pee before bed.</p><p>But he still stared at the empty bed. It felt wrong. Why?</p><p>Dewey’s heart sunk a little when he noticed dark spots on the edge of the green pillow. Louie had been crying.</p><p>He made his way out the door and down the hallway with a new mission: find his sad baby brother. He didn’t drink <i>that</i> much water before bed anyway.</p><p>As he walked down the corridor (managing to trip over nothing in the darkness only twice this time!), he thought that maybe Louie just drooled a lot. And he was up getting a glass of water. That would honestly be much better, because if those were tear stains and Louie was somewhere in this house upset and alone, that made Dewey the worst brother ever and also not as light a sleeper as he thought.</p><p>Drool. Glass of water. Louie was probably in the kitchen.</p><p>Dewey turned the corner to make his way downstairs and stopped dead in his tracks. Very loud sobbing was coming from a room a couple doors down the hall.</p><p>Dewey cursed in his head and sprinted to where the sound was coming from. He opened the door a crack, and there Louie was, curled up in the corner of the room, hyperventilating. His red, puffy eyes were wide open and fixated on nothing. He was shaking violently.</p><p>Dewey didn’t even think his younger brother noticed when he rushed to Louie’s side. Dewey was ready to embrace him, but stopped, hands hovering over his younger brother hesitantly. His heart was pounding. Why was Louie crying like this? What had possibly upset him <i>this much</i>?</p><p>“Louie?”</p><p>No reply. Louie was breathing too quickly and not enough. His gaze was empty.</p><p>“Louie,” Dewey said again, more forcefully. He guessed he was trying to get his attention. It worked, anyway.</p><p>Louie’s gaze snapped to meet Dewey’s. His eyes widened even more, processing his brother sitting right in front of him, and then he flinched back. Hard.</p><p>Dewey’s heart broke a little.</p><p>“Lou,” Dewey said, voice wavering a little. “Louie. What’s wrong?”</p><p>The youngest continued to watch Dewey with a terrified expression. Tears poured down his face. </p><p>Dewey realized his brother’s breathing was way too shallow. He looked like he was going to pass out.</p><p>“Louie,” Dewey repeated. “Louie, <i>breathe</i>. Please breathe.”</p><p>Louie finally broke his gaze and stared hard at the floor as more tears ran swiftly down his cheeks. He looked scared. Dewey was scared. What was <i>wrong</i>?</p><p>“I can’t,” Louie whispered under his breath, so quiet Dewey almost didn’t catch it.</p><p>“Yes, you can,” Dewey said. He gave in and placed his hand on Louie’s shoulder. “Breathe with me. Deep breath in…”</p><p>“I can’t,” Louie repeated, slightly louder this time, and he shook his head. He didn’t stop. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”</p><p>“Louie,” Dewey said. He heard his own voice catch a bit. “Louie, please, breathe.”</p><p>Louie flinched away from Dewey again, still sobbing, and then stared him straight in the eye. “I can’t do this anymore,” he choked out.</p><p>“Louie, <i>you need to calm down</i>,” Dewey repeated. And repeated. And repeated, over and over again, until Louie let Dewey hold him in his arms and he stopped shaking so much, until his breathing evened out, until he finally cried himself to sleep clutching Dewey’s pajama shirt tightly. (Or maybe he’d passed out, but at this point, what could Dewey do?) Dewey stayed there with his sleeping brother, on the floor, for what felt like hours but was probably closer to twenty minutes. He didn’t know what to do next.</p><p><i>I can’t do this anymore</i>. </p><p>His brother was not okay.</p><p>Eventually, Dewey realized he needed to get Louie off the floor. He looked around. This was one of the empty guest rooms -- no bed. <i>Nice one, Lou.</i></p><p>Dewey didn’t want to leave Louie alone, even for a minute just to get Huey. He didn’t have his phone on him, but Louie was still wearing his hoodie and not his pajamas -- Dewey carefully slipped his hand into the pocket and sure enough, there was Louie’s phone, warm from Louie’s body heat and being stuck in his pocket for so long.</p><p>Dewey unlocked the phone using face ID (he knew Louie’s password, duh, but using face ID was so fun when you were an identical triplet) and pulled up Louie’s contacts list. Huey, Dewey, and Donald all had little heart emoticons next to their names in his phone. Dewey always loved that.</p><p>Donald. He’d call Uncle Donald. He would know what to do (and most likely be awake already anyway).</p><p>He picked up after two rings.</p><p>“Louie?” The voice of a very sleepy Donald floated from the phone. “Is everything okay?”<br/>
“Uncle Donald, I’m sitting with Louie on the floor of that guest bedroom right next to the main staircase. He’s sleeping and I need your help.”</p><p>“What? Dewey?” Donald sounded very confused. Dewey didn’t blame him.</p><p>“Just -- can you come find us?”</p><p>He did, right away. Donald found them sitting in the dark, empty room and immediately scooped Louie up in his arms. He carried Louie carefully a couple doors down the hallway to an empty room with a bed -- coincidentally, Donald’s childhood bedroom. Dewey had suggested quietly they avoid the boys’ bedroom because Huey was sleeping (and Huey <i>never</i> slept). Donald agreed.</p><p>Once Louie was tucked into the soft bed, Dewey explained to his uncle how he found Louie mid-panic attack on the floor. Donald looked extremely grief-stricken. Dewey felt the same.</p><p>“What do you think happened?” Dewey asked quietly. “I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.”</p><p>Donald sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for Dewey to come sit in his lap. Dewey immediately embraced his uncle.</p><p>He cradled Dewey in his arms. They both watched Louie as he snored softly.</p><p>“I’ve been worried about him lately,” Donald sighed.</p><p>Dewey looked up at him.</p><p>“I don’t think Louie is happy.”</p><p>Dewey turned to glance at his brother again. He felt his heart sink. “You mean, like… <i>depressed</i>?”</p><p>His uncle didn’t say anything, but his silence was confirmation enough.</p><p>“I’m a terrible brother,” Dewey whispered, mostly to himself. “Why didn’t I know? I should have known.”</p><p>“Dewey, no,” Donald said, brushing back Dewey’s hair soothingly. “No. You’re not a terrible brother. Sometimes we just don’t see these things coming.”</p><p>Dewey paused a beat. “Did you?”</p><p>Donald was quiet. “I wondered. I should have talked to him sooner.” He turned to Dewey again. “But it’s okay, because we’re here to support him now. He will be okay, Dew.”</p><p>Dewey was upset. More than. But all he could do now was try his best to take care of his little brother. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Louie woke up with that feeling he’d been crying. It wasn’t new.</p><p>What was new was this bedroom -- Uncle Donald’s. Why was he in here?</p><p>He sat up slowly, reluctantly, and remembered last night. </p><p>Dewey. Dewey was there.</p><p>Louie was torn between feeling crippling shame and overwhelming relief.</p><p>He heard the door open and turned to see Huey and Dewey slip into the room. Huey sported his signature <i>worried brother</i> expression and Dewey looked extremely tired. At seeing Louie awake and sitting up, they both immediately came over and crawled onto the bed to join him. Louie didn’t even bother with a fake smile.</p><p>Dewey immediately wrapped his arms around Louie. </p><p>There was his hug.</p><p>Overwhelming relief won over.</p><p>“I’m so, so sorry, Lou,” Dewey said into his neck. </p><p>Like with the smile, Louie didn’t bother to hold in his tears. There was no masking anything anymore.</p><p>Huey joined the embrace. “We love you more than <i>anything</i>, Louie.” His voice wobbled. “We’re here for you now.”</p><p>Louie released a small sob. “<i>I’m not okay</i>,” he cried softly.</p><p>Both his brothers tightened the hug. They didn’t say anything. Huey was crying now, too.</p><p>Louie’s heart hurt <i>so badly</i>. But he got the message his brothers were sending. He was hurting, but he felt their love. It was strong. Wrapped around him with their embrace.</p><p>He didn’t have to put on a smile anymore. He didn’t have to continue to call himself “loveably lazy” while everyone rolled their eyes. He didn’t have to <i>pretend</i>. </p><p>There was already some solace in that. And with his brothers right there, he thought that things might get better. He thought, eventually, he’d be okay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(And he was. He really, really was.</p><p>Time passed. Lots of days were bad. Some were good. Louie leaned on his family, his brothers, as the number of good days slowly surpassed the bad. As he found eventually he could wake up smiling with no reason and no weight on his chest. As things looked brighter. </p><p>Happiness found its way back to Louie.</p><p>He wasn’t stuck anymore. </p><p>Louie Duck wasn’t stuck inside his head; in fact, he was very much free.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so so much for reading!! 💖 if you have any fic suggestions please lmk in the comments i'll love u forever &lt;33</p><p>(come chat to me on tumblr! ducks blog - louyd)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>